


live a little

by the merienes tranch (lilhalphys)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (augh i hate that it automatically puts "katie" in that tag), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Road Trips, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilhalphys/pseuds/the%20merienes%20tranch
Summary: (“Oh. Hey,” he gives Lance a quick once-over, “tourist douche. Welcome to Alton.” He punctuated his statement with an unenthused wave of his hands.)
Lance and his close friends, recent high school graduates, all take a summer trip to a town that might as well be called "Town on the Beach #489".
...At least, that's all it was for Pidge "I only need my headphones and Wi-fi" Holt and Tsuyoshi "You bet your ass we're saving space in this trunk for souvenirs" "Hunk" Garrett.
For Lance McClain, this town was unique for the not-actually-brick castle placed near the outskirts of the town's residential zone and for the boy who lived-but-not-really-lived there that he totally wasn't gay for, he swears.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> started writing this as a big klance fan
> 
> currently less of a klance fan (but still a pretty big klance fan)
> 
> this'll still get done because im stubborn that way and i Like this Plot

It was a decision the three of them had made one-third of the way into freshman year. After graduation, Lance McClain, Pidge Holt, and Hunk Garret were going to spend the whole summer far away from the shithole of bigotry and misguided passion they were legally obligated to call a school.  
Of course, many things changed between the promise and the summer it spoke of. Pidge was a boy until the end of freshman year, a girl until thirty minutes into the SATs they took junior year, and a scientist from then on. Lance learned the value of using his arms to carry his jacket rather than his shoulders, though he continued to use finger guns unironically, as if it were the seventies and that were still seen as attractive. Hunk contained his entire anime phase within the long four years, wiring one of his old toys to play an excerpt of the Naruto theme at the push of a button and later rewiring it to the Wilhelm scream at Lance’s request.  
But they never forgot their promise.  
...Of course, how exactly that promise would be fulfilled was up for debate.  
“I’m telling you, we have to go to a tiny beach town! It’s like, tradition or something.” Lance had spent the first half of the conversation with half his attention glued to a hotel browsing website, but he was now leaning precariously over the arm of the computer chair, passionately yelling his opinion for the room’s ears to hear.  
A dry, somewhat nasally response came from Lance’s couch. “Well maybe I don’t want to be part of a shitty romcom.”  
Lance attempted to articulate an equally witty response, but he knew his friend was right. He settled on “Shut up, Pidge.” Good one, Lance. That’ll show ‘em.  
A voice piped up from behind the wall extending into Lance’s room and dividing it partially in half. “Hey, look, guys, maybe we should be a bit more civil about this if we’re going to be spending the next three months together?” As he finished his statement, Hunk poked his head from behind the wall.  
Pidge scoffed. “Says the guy who thinks it's smart to pack into a tiny-ass car for a three day drive across the country”  
Okay, Lance really laughed at that one.  
Hunk sighed deeply, clearly not finding the remark as funny as a still-laughing Lance did. “Yeah, okay, haha, we get it. Look, I came up with an idea for how we solve this whole thing.” Hunk, with a wide grin on his face, held up a dark red bag with “Scrabble” written on it in faded yellow ink.  
“No.”  
“C’mon, Pidge!”  
“I said, no!”  
“Do you have any better ideas?” Lance smirked in Pidge’s direction, knowing he had them cornered like they had had him a few minutes before  
They sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose. They didn’t stay a word as they walk over and took a tile from the bag Hunk held, but the look on their face said more of their shame than words ever could. Lance followed, his stroked ego positively oozing from his stride and posture, even though he hadn’t done anything of real significance.  
“Don’t look at them yet,” Hunk explained as each of his friends took a tile from the bag. After taking a tile of his own, he said, “Alright, now whoever pulled the tile closest to ‘A’ picks our destination.  
Pidge scoffed. “So we are in a shitty romcom.” They then proceeded to curse under their breath as the tile in their hand revealed itself to be the letter “O”.  
Hunk reached out to gently pat their shoulder, giggling softly at the “U” sitting in his hand.  
Lance tried his best to not count his chickens, but the thought that most of the alphabet was on his side was thrilling. He took in a breath, contemplating the tile sitting in his closed-  
“Good god, just look at it already!”  
Right. That is certainly a point. Lance revealed to himself and his friends the tile in his hand.  
“K”  
Lance would tell anyone who asked that he won with grace, but in reality, he hooted and hollered and jumped in the air. They were spending their promised summer at a beach town!  
Just like in a shitty romcom.

~~~

“You know, for how long we’ve been planning this, we didn’t, you know,” Hunk made a wide gesture to the mess of clothing and various toiletries scattered about Pidge’s bed, “do a lot of planning.”  
“Pshh, we’ll be fine! After all, we’ve shouldn’t hafta pack much for little ol’ Pidgey here. Get it? Cause they’re so small? And prepubescent?”  
Hunk sighed at Lance’s comment, though he still wore a small smile on his face. “Look, I’m gonna go downstairs and grab the pillows I brought from my place. Hotel ones are fucking disgusting.” He shuddered, sticking his tongue slightly at the thought. “Be back soon!”  
“Later!” Lance turned back towards Pidge, only to find that they were unfazed by both his insult and Hunk’s departure, focus alternating between the bed’s contents and their fingers. Lance frowned. “Hey, Pidge!”  
A pause. Lance tapped them on the shoulder. “Yo. Birdy kid.”  
Pidge sputtered and jumped a good foot away from Lance at the contact. “Uh--uh-I-Wh-What?!”  
Lance frowned. “Pidge.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Were you doing math?”  
“Yep.”  
“On your fingers?”  
“..Yeah?”  
Lance had to choke back his laughter. “With your phone in your hand?”  
Pidge took a few moments to process the statement. They looked for a second at their phone, their hand, and eventually right in Lance’s eyes.  
The first thing Hunk heard as he climbed up the stairs back to Pidge’s room was the shout Lance let out as Pidge punched him in the arm.  
~~~  
The beach town they drove to was about a nine hour drive away. Hunk initially complained about the length of the ride, but Pidge got him to agree by citing his original trip idea. Despite their collective tendency to be overly loud and rambunctious, the car ride was relatively uneventful. Pidge taped their gigantic noise-cancelling headphones to their head and didn’t remove them once, even while they were driving. However, they always seemed to know when to say “No” in unison with Hunk every time Lance insisted they stop at shitty of-route attraction #452.  
By the time they arrived at their destination, Alton, everyone was ready for bed. Hunk mumbled something about how they shouldn’t have started a seven hour drive right after school. Lance and Pidge, to preserve their respective egos, chose to ignore him.  
The motel they were staying in was coated in coat of purple paint that probably only looked more ugly than when they got there when it was first applied. Lance opted not to comment, holding his tongue to preserve what little positive emotion that remained in his body after the drive.  
Pidge set an alarm for 3am, insisting it was “prime alien hunting time”. Hunk swore that if it woke him up, they’d all be eating instant ramen for the next three months. Lance, claiming he wasn’t tired despite everyone in the entire fucking world knowing that was lie, decided to “go out on the town”. Pidge nearly choked on their laughter at that, before passing out like a light.  
“Have fun!” Hunk called as Lance walked out of the room. 

~~~

The cool air hit Lance like a car much bigger than the one he'd just spent far too long in, dragging him from a state where he thought he'd pass out, but still leaving him quite tired.  
The town was quiet and dark, surprisingly so for-Lance checked his watch-12:37. Okay, maybe not that surprising. The only sounds were the gentle, unsleeping waves lapping against the shore of the nearby beach that drew him to this town in the first place. Breathing in the salty air, Lance sighed. He was finally done with school, finally fulfilling the promise he made to himself and his friends all those years ago.  
Whether it was his ego telling him to ensure he knew more than Hunk and Pidge about the town’s layout before their official tour tomorrow or his pounding heart grasping for any excuse to avoid sleep, Lance was unsure, but something kept him in the streets, drinking in shops and homes and other stereotypical beachtown attractions.  
The most prestigious building was clearly the one Lance presumed to be a rollerskating rink. That wasn’t really saying much. The lettering on the building’s front (“The V Rink”) and the white paint directly surrounding it were both quite bright, but the rest of the building had dull, unsaturated colors. Most of the boardwalk’s other attractions seemed centered around the rink, from a small karaoke bar which provided, even at this time of night-day-whatever, a muffled beat to back up the sounds of the ocean to an antique store (just called “Shay’s”) with a window littered with everything from vivid blue crystals to neutral-colored scarves.  
At the end of the boardwalk was an amusement park. The entrance was roped off, and Lance, in an attempt to cherish the fact that he had yet to do anything illegal in this town, decided to save that particular escapade for another day.  
Lance’s original plan for the night was to avoid the residential sections of the town, but, as he turned back towards the motel, he noticed what appeared to be the top of a castle poking over top of the houses.  
Indulging his curiosities in a way his friends hadn't allowed him to do for the past nine hours, Lance set off in the direction of the building.  
The houses in their blocks on their streets in the town were mostly quiet. A few had lights on in their windows and a few others were making...noises. Lance avoided those houses.  
Eventually he came upon the castle-like building. The building itself was painted white, with various murals depicting medieval-style scenes and a brick pattern painted on. A sign that was either pastel blue or just that old was nailed above the door with text in an equally pastel pink chipping text read "CASTLE OF LIONS FOSTER HOME". Lance thought it was cute.  
A figure sat on the gravel parking lot in front of the castle with their face pressed in their knees and a tacky paper crown perched haphazardly on their head.  
As Lance got closer, he noticed the figure convulsing and shaking. He stopped dead in his tracks. This person was having a moment, far more intimate and personal than he should be involved in. But something still pulled him forward, got him walking again. It felt like the forces that compelled him to be a nosy asshole and an understanding, caring listener had finally found a patch of common ground. Lance gave in, knowing all too well how rare such an occasion was.  
Though their face was occupied with their knees, the figure noticed as Lance approached, trying in desperation to steady their breathing.  
“Heya!” Lance’s words are too loud against the night air, and the figure jumps, going into a defensive stance that sends the paper crown flying.  
“What.” The person who now had a face but still lacked a name looked absolutely horrified. Their eyes, widened by instinctive fear, were ringed with red, though that did nothing to obscure the bags that looked like bruises-and may have been, if Lance was being totally honest with himself-that sat underneath. Their eyes themselves were a dark blue that looked almost purple under the light. Dark locks of hair framed their face and took the form of - dear god was that a mullet?!  
Dots of acne populated their face and their eyebrows were unkempt. It was charming. They wore far too many layers for the heat that lay thick in the air, including an bright red jacket that clashed heavily from the rest of their clearly emo aesthetic.  
They were hideous.  
They were gorg-  
“Hey, dude. What d’ya want.”  
Apparently, Lance had spent actual, real-ass time processing the appearance of a complete stranger. Good one, Lance. Always the charmer.  
“Is this some sort of prank? I swear to god, I don't need this today.” They slumped against the wall but didn't quite sit down all the way, perching their weight against the structure in a way that looked agonizing.  
Lance sputtered. Searching desperately for the appropriate response, he noticed a birthday-themed nametag adorning the stranger’s chest. “Oh! H-hey,” he squinted at the sticker, “Keith!”  
Keith’s head snapped up at the sound of his name. “How...did you…” The confusion on his face is quickly replaced by recognition. “Oh. Hey,” he gives Lance a quick once-over, “tourist douche. Welcome to Alton.” He punctuated his statement with an unenthused wave of his hands.  
Lance pressed a hand to his chest and gasped loudly with fake dramaticism in response to the insult. He laughed. Keith smiled.  
Something about it all felt...easy.  
Lance noticed, and it wasn't because he was staring at Keith’s face again, don't you dare act like it was, the red around Keith’s eyes and the tears staining his cheeks. Keith’s face slowly morphed back into a scowl as he realized why Lance was staring at him.  
A pause. A breath.  
“Do you wanna...talk about it?”  
Keith scoffed. “I'm sure a conversation with you is the best way to talk about myself, huh?”  
“Wow, rude! We haven't even known each other for, like, five minutes yet!”  
“And yet you're trying to get personal?”  
“I’m trying to be a good person!”  
“Coulda fooled me.” And Keith laughed at his own “joke” and his laugh was loud and full of a life that Lance couldn't see anywhere else in him and he tried to not think about it too hard.  
“But...seriously? You okay?”  
There was another moment of quiet, of no words, as Keith made the transition from trying to stop his laughter so he could formulate an answer to holding back tears as he realized for the ump-fucking-teenth time that night exactly what that answer was. He slid down the wall, his mind far to occupied to keep his legs up.  
“Oh -- shit, dude?! You okay? Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I--”  
“Don’t.” Keith’s voice was quiet, raspy. “It’s fine”  
Lance sat down beside him. “You sure?”  
“Yeah, I’m,” Keith took a huge gulp of air, “I’m fine”  
Suddenly it wasn’t easy. There were too many pauses and too many breaths. Lance looked at his watch. 1:58.  
1:59. Lance looked up and saw a group of stars that looked vaguely like a constellation. He’d ask Pidge later.  
2:00.  
“I’m an orphan.”  
“Woah woah -- Alright, okay, didn’t see that one coming -- That was ah -- uh --”  
Keith snorted. “Bad opener?”  
Lance paused to gather his thoughts, moving his hands wildly in front of his face. “Yeah. Yeah, a little bit.”  
“Well it was either that or ‘I’m literally going to be homeless in three months’”  
“Fair, fair.”  
Keith’s smile widened. “Sure you wanna know all the juicy details, eh?”  
“Who, me?” Lance laughed. “Yeah, I mean, if you wanna share?”  
Keith's face softened. “S’not really all that juicy.”  
“What, was ten-year old orphan you not a party animal?” Lance said it and immediately regretted it.  
But then Keith did that laugh again, and Lance felt better (like, in general, situation be damned).  
Keith came down from the laugh far, far (far) too soon. “Yeah, I don’t really get out much.”  
Lance scoffed. “Shocking, considering the hair.”  
Keith stuck his tongue out (holy Fuck, Lance was going to die) in response. After a moment he sighed and turned away, the light in his eyes dimming and turning watery. “I've lived in this old thing,” he tapped the wall behind him with the back of his hand, “for as long as I can remember.” He took a deep sigh, his whole body shuddering as he did.  
“You-”  
“I'm fine.” A deep breath. “I'm fine…” Keith began to wring his hands. “I never knew my parents. I might've had a few siblings, but like hell I remember any of them. And, I guess,” he turns to Lance, his face grim and his eyes lit now by tears more than anything else, “like hell any of them remembered me, if they even exist.”  
“Oh, shit, dude, I”  
“And that’s,” Keith’s voice cracks and it's too loud against the night and Lance thinks he just wants to-, “not even the best part!” Keith stands up.  
Lance is frozen on the pavement against the wall he thinks might be made of plaster.  
“Today, I turned eighteen. I’m an adult. I can’t stay here anymore. Coran - the guy who owns the joint - says I can stay until the summer ends.” He laughs, and there’s a few tears on his face and Lance really wants to - “I’m fucking homeless, dude.”  
Lance gaped, as Lance tended to do when he had no actual goddamned clue of what's going on.  
“I’m fucking homeless, and I just vented to a stranger who I don’t even know-” Keith paused and turned to Lance- “Name?”  
Lance missed only a beat. “Lance.”  
“Okay, thanks. I feel less like shit now.”  
“No prob. Plus we don't have to be-”  
“Now I-Shit, go ahead.”  
“Nah, it's fine”  
“Please.” Keith's eyes gleamed with desperation and tears. “Talk.”  
Lance took in a breath. “We - we don't have to be strangers.”  
One of Keith’s eyebrows went up.  
“Like how you said we were-”  
Keith nodded.  
“Yeah. And I think I can help you, like, feel better.”  
Keith's other eyebrow went up, and each separate part of his face seemed to contort in a desperate attempt to understanding exactly what the fuck Lance was talking about.  
“I,” Lance, brimming with a sudden confidence pointed his thumb at his chest, triumph smearing his face into a grin, “am going to teach you,” his forefinger pointed at Keith, leaving his hand in the shape of a finger gun (damn it, Lance, we've been over this), “how to live.”  
“I've been alive for the past eighteen years.”  
“No, Keith, live!” Lance made a wide gesture to the town around them, using both his arms so Keith would know just how much he meant it. “How much of this town have you seen?”  
“Let me reiterate; I've been here for eighteen years.”  
“You also said you don’t get out much. I’m gonna get you out, if you catch my drift.”  
Keith scoffed, and his head rolled with his eyes. “Fine.” He smiled. “But only a little.”  
“Yeah.” The grin on Lance’s face slipped into something genuine. “Only a little.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its Tour Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isnt proofread or anything so it needs heavy edits.
> 
> thanks for sticking with me!

By the time Lance made it back to the motel room, Pidge was awake, donning the “alien hunting gear” they insisted on bringing.  
It was a scuba mask, boots Lance was certain couldn't have belonged to anyone but Hunk duct taped to their leg, and some obscure superhero belt with a flashlight and a hockey stick in its loops. Lance reached into the suitcase sitting under his bed and tossed Pidge a bag of trail mix. He nodded. Pidge nodded back as they walked out the motel door, closing it carefully to avoid waking Hunk.  
Lance flopped down on his bed in a way even he wouldn’t try to call graceful. He wanted to think about his conversation with Keith because every single movie had taught him that's what he was supposed to do but he just couldn’t keep his eyes -  
He awoke sometime around 4:30 by Pidge coming back and getting into a whisper fight with Hunk. They were arguing about “aliens” and “creaky-ass doors” and “clearly-haunted castle” and “nine fucking hours, Pidge!”. Lance, desperate for sleep, throws a pillow in their general direction with all the force his stupor allows. Hunk’s “the hell, dude” tells him it was pretty hard.  
The two of them shut up after that, and Lance finds himself falling asleep to the sound of Pidge shuffling around the motel room.

~~~

Lance and Keith had agreed to meet by the castle the following afternoon, leaving Lance, Hunk and Pidge the morning to explore the town. Which, to the surprise of absolutely no one, did not go as well as expected.  
Hunk woke Pidge and Lance up around eight am by pressing an ice cube to the backs of their necks, claiming that any fatigue they felt was their own faults for staying out so late. He swore he had tried shaking and throwing things at them, but Lance calls bullshit.  
As revenge, they took until nine-forty-five to get ready despite literally only showering and changing, giggling to themselves and each other as Hunk got increasingly frustrated with their antics.  
At ten am, they all found themselves in a situation suspiciously similar to where they were when they first decided their trip location. Back and forth and back and forth until Pidge, the logical little shit they were, slammed a town map on the coffee table, the noise startling Lance and Hunk into silence.  
“Look.” They were breathing heavily. “This strip mall - or whatever the fuck - is the farthest from this castle - or whatever the fuck. We start here, and make our way towards the castle-not-castle, okay?”  
Hunk agreed. Lance protested. Two pairs of eyes bored directly into him.  
Lance agreed.  
Of course, it was ten-thirty before they even reached the mall. Lance wanted to go into every store and Pidge insisted every store was “boring” or “a hangout for beach vermin” with a shudder down their spine. Hunk had to constantly remind them both that, surprise, they were living here for three months. Beach vermin or no, they’d be going everywhere at some point, if not exclusively to combat sheer boredom.  
When they leave the strip mall (“Look at that sign! It’s an outlet center.” “What an astute and relevant observation, Lance.” “Did I ask for your-”) forty-five minutes before the agreed on time (“What the hell’s even gonna happen when we meet this guy?” “Hell if I know.” “Lance!”) and an hour’s walk from their destination, suddenly, the whole morning seems like a bad idea.  
When the group passes their motel on their way, Pidge insisted on going back.  
“What the hell, man?”  
“I got shit to do.”  
Lance was furious. “Yeah, you do! Like this! Like we planned!”  
“Nah, sorry.” Pidge waved at Lance and Hunk, not even trying to hide the fact that they were flipping them off.  
“You asshole!” Lance’s shout turned the heads of nearby pedestrians. It was a few moments before Hunk was able to convince him to stop muttering and yelling after Pidge, that they had a place to be.  
“Wasn’t there some guy you were meeting at this place?”  
That got Lance’s attention, and he walked a bit faster than he’d been before Pidge abandoned them.  
He pretended not to notice this fact, and he pretended extra hard not to notice than Hunk had totally noticed this fact.

~~~

Keith was leaned up against the wall of the “castle”, wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously similar to what he’d been wearing the night before, but he now lacked the birthday sticker and had his hair pulled back in a short ponytail. A young woman stood beside him, long, bleached hair extending to her waist, though the color seemed dulled and a small section of dark roots was visible.  
Lance’s breath hitched in his throat the way it tends to do when he’s around attractive people. Hunk gets the message, calling across the foster home’s parking lot to the two figures.  
Keith visibly tensed and his head whipped up at Hunk’s voice, but his posture relaxed when he saw Lance. As she noticed this, realization dawned on the woman’s face. She moved from her position against the wall, walking to meet Lance and Hunk near the lot’s center. After a moment, Keith followed.  
There was a moment, however short, between Lance, Hunk, and the woman arriving at the center of the lot and Keith joining. Lance, however, knew immediately that it would forever be the most awkward of his life. After glancing between him and Hunk, the woman’s gaze settled on Lance, looking him over with scrutiny in her eyes and posture.  
“Keith,” she called over her shoulder with a thick accent, “he looks like an asshole.”  
Lance was appalled. He decided to be respectful, for what kind of gentleman would he be to this lovely lady if he didn’t-  
“Pretty sure I mentioned that going in.” Keith was laughing as he walked up behind the woman.  
-Alright, fuck that thought, then. Lance’s face quickly contorted from gaping to sneering. “Screw you, dude! I spent, like, an hour on makeup this morning.”  
Hunk mumbled something under his breath about ‘an hour too long’ and Lance would’ve punched him in the arm if he weren’t busy looking Keith directly in the eye (to intimidate him. yeah.)  
The woman burst out laughing and Keith smirked (fuck. shit. not again.) in response. Lance sighed. God, he’s glad Pidge went home.  
Once everyone had calmed down, Awkward Phase II: The Awkwardening began.  
“So, uh,” Keith swallowed a gulp of air (but the way his face contorted made it look like poison) and gestured to the up-until-then mysterious woman, “This is Allura.”  
Lance felt Hunk’s very posture tense in anticipation of the pun that…  
...never came (he knows Hunk notices and knows he’s not going to hear the end of it). “Cool!” Lance patted Hunk’s back, which flinched with the rest of him in shock at Lance’s maturity(?). “This is my best buddy, Hunk!”  
Hunk recovered quickly. “H-hi. Nice to meet you both.” He shook Allura’s hand. Keith declined his offer and brought his arms around himself. “Our other friend-Pidge-they didn’t come...because-uh-”  
Lance interrupted him with a scoff. “They’re an asshole.”  
Allura laughed and playfully jabbed Keith in the side with her elbow. “Oh, trust me, I can relate.”  
“Aren’t you the one who said I needed to make fri-”  
Allura cut him off with a look and a jab to the side she looked like she thought was subtle.  
“So!” She turned to Lance and Hunk with brightness in her eyes. “What did you think of your first morning in Alton?”

~~~

Allura was positively livid when she learned exactly how little Lance and Hunk had seen of her beloved hometown. Any attempted interjections from Lance about “time” or Hunk about “vengeful prima donnas” were shot down with vigor. To the relief of everyone involved, she insisted they cancel their “plans” for the day so she could give Lance and Hunk a proper tour.  
Her plan was strikingly similar to what Pidge’s had been for that morning. They are to start at the same strip mall (“We’ve already been there.” “Did you go into the the hat place by the Five Below?” “...No?” “Then you haven’t”) and slowly see the town throughout the day.  
Due to the all-constricting grasp of time, they all (Allura and Hunk) decided to stick in commercial areas for the afternoon (“Wait - no amusement park?” “Lance, we’re here for three months.” “I stand by my statement”).  
They spend much longer at the mall the second time. The particular hat place is definitively the best of the stores they explore, though they end up leaving the whole establishment empty-handed.  
Keith questions their productivity. Lance swears by the idea of fun. Keith comments on “research” he has to do. Lance and Allura both insist on the idea of fun.  
Keith is dragged to other establishments by the ear.  
~~~

“Hey, Keith, time check?”  
A pause. “Uh, like, three?”  
Lance spat out his mouthful of fancy-bottle water and tried not to curse the waste. “Shit. We didn’t eat yet.”  
Keith sent up an eyebrow. “So? It’s...only three?”  
Lance gasped. “So?!” He whipped around to Allura and looked her dead in the eye. “How did you raise this boy?!”  
Allura bent down to Lance’s height. “I am not his mother. But if I were, I would’ve taught him to not mock the upbringings of orphans.” She smirked, but her words seemed to inject tension into the air in waves…  
...That dissipated the moment Keith’s gentle, soft laughter bubbled up through it. “Wow, Allura. I thought you were supposed to help me ma-”  
“Oh, hush up! It was funny.”  
“Was it?”  
“You laughed! Plus,” her mischievous look shifted towards Lance, “he certainly enjoyed it.”  
Lance realized, in one horrid moment that he was, in fact, standing around like a doofus (and not blushing, don’t you forget it). He opened his mouth to explain away the situa-  
“Look, I know we’re all having fun here, but I think I agree with Lance on the whole ‘it’s time to get lunch’ thing.” Oh his savior, the light on his life Hunk, interjecting to save his life from torturous embarrassment.  
Allura sighed, seeming almost disappointed about the change of topic. “I suppose so…” Her face lit up. “Oh, I know the most perfect place!”  
They ate lunch at tiny, mom-and-pop style pizza place. There weren’t very many tables in the dining room, but their timing ensured that they were the only ones eating in the restaurant and that their food came quickly. They talked about their lives, about the food, about anything, really. Lance told jokes and Allura whispered what they meant to Keith. Hunk talked about technical things that no one understood but all were inspired by. Allura told them of the town’s rich history and culture.  
And Keith laughed.  
And Lance didn’t stare.

They each ate enough to ensure that all of their dinners had certainly been ruined, but not a one could find it in them to care.

~~~

For the next few hours, Hunk, Allura, Keith and Lance wandered in and out of shops they’d already visited or skipped along the way.  
Finally, as the sun said it’s final goodbyes for the day and the group intended to go home, Lance found himself positively enamored with a 7Eleven. Hunk immediately advised the others to leave, that they’d be there a while. Keith waved them both off, saying he could handle it.  
Oh, how wrong he was.  
“You have these here?!”  
“Yeah? Of course we do.”  
“Dude. That’s so cool.”  
“...Thanks?”  
“I’m getting you a slushie.”  
“It’s nine - Lance! It’s nine pm!”  
Lance, ignoring Keith’s shouts, walked with purpose into the convenience store. Keith followed with a sigh.  
The store was violently bright compared to the nearly night sky. Keith covered his eyes for a moment, struggling to adjust.  
“Cherry or Coke?” called a voice across the store.  
“Coke.” Keith was done trying to protest.  
After a moment, Keith and Lance rendezvoused at the checkout counter. The lady at the register smiled at them, and Keith tried not to worry about it too much. He lived in a good town.  
As Lance is handed the money to the cashier, he gasps. Slamming a pack of some child’s trinket on the counter, he shouted with childish glee sewn into his words, “One of these too, please!”  
As they exited the store, Lance handed Keith a cup that was way bigger than he’d ever drink, but he thanked him anyway.  
“How much was it?” Keith sipped delicately at the plastic straw.  
Lance, in response, stuck his tongue out while fiddling with the plastic packaging of his other purchase.  
Keith, smiling, rolled his eyes. “What are those?”  
Lance smirked and pulled the plastic apart with one last tug. “Sillibandz.”  
Keith felt his very soul leave his body. “No.”  
Lance’s smirk widened. “Yes.” He began to fish through the package, eyes intent on something particular.  
“I don’t want one of your-”  
“Here we are!” Lance pulled a piece of rubber from the plastic. He made sure Keith obtained the gift by forcibly manhandling his unoccupied hand and forcing it onto his wrist. The intersection where he needed to part with Keith just so happened to come up so he could avoid a good sock to the arm.  
“See ya later, babe!”  
Keith rolled his eyes. He set down his drink to examine what exactly now adorned his person.  
The band was red. It took a minute to unravel, but when it did, Keith saw that the bracelet was shaped like a little cat.  
Alright, that was a bit cute…  
Keith paused halfway through bending down to reach his drink. Oh.  
Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! sorry this one is shorter, im still working on how to comfortably write this
> 
> please review if you can, and happy new year!

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is so hard to read my mentally ill ass feels bad posting this but i could not find a way to make it look any nicer. please lmk how to make this look nice ive never used html in my life
> 
> thanks for reading! please leave a review those help me write faster
> 
> <3!!!


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